


The Photograph of Choice

by Small_Hobbit



Series: The Unexpected Family [12]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-18
Updated: 2015-02-25
Packaged: 2018-01-19 20:44:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1483237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Small_Hobbit/pseuds/Small_Hobbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Greg and Sherlock are selecting photographs of their children at different times in their lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [notluvulongtime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/notluvulongtime/gifts).



> Written as part of my Unexpected Family 'verse as a birthday present for Notluvulongtime.
> 
> Lucy and William are the two adopted children of Greg and Sherlock.

“I have the perfect gift for Mycroft,” Sherlock announced to Greg as he walked back into the flat holding a carrier bag.

“Go on then, show me.”

Sherlock carefully removed a box from the bag and then took a clock out of the box. Around the clock dial were holders for small photographs. The suggested pictures included two angelic children, a cute puppy, and an adorable kitten.

“He’ll hate that,” Greg said. “And he’ll never put it on show.”

“Oh, he will if we put the right pictures in. Are you going to help me find them?”

*****

John Watson entered 221B holding a large envelope.

“I’ve got the details you wanted,” he called out.

Then he stopped and looked more closely at Sherlock and Greg.

“What on earth are you doing?” he added.

“John, you’ve seen the way I work many times,” Sherlock replied. “Why are you questioning it now? We’re using the pictures on the evidence wall to make sure we’ve covered all the different links. I told Greg that the three crimes were connected and this is the easiest way to prove it to him.”

“I didn’t mean the evidence wall. I’m fully aware of how you use that. It’s just that I’ve never seen you wearing the baby carrier whilst you work on the wall.”

“William sleeps much better during the day if he’s close to someone and this way I can continue with the work. Do you have a problem with it?”

“No, not at all. I’m just going to take a photo of the three of you.”

*****

“This is the last time we ever take a late flight with the children,” Greg said.

“It would have been okay, if the previous flight hadn’t been delayed. We’d have made our connection,” Sherlock answered.

“We’ll have to do something to keep them happy. And it’s hardly fair on the other passengers to inflict a crying baby and a grouchy toddler on them for the next hour.”

“If I put the back carrier back on and walk around then William will be happier. And Lucy liked the travelator; we could take her on that again. I can’t imagine anyone will object.”

The three of them walked along the travelator. Lucy, who had slept on the previous flight, was now full of life and quite happy to trot along with her dads, whilst William, as predicted, had grown quieter with the movement. When they reached the far end Greg suggested that he wait whilst Sherlock and the children did a complete circuit and then they could swap places. Sherlock agreed and started back with the children.

When they were part way along Greg called out, “I’ll go and get us both a coffee.”

“Okay,” Sherlock replied.

Lucy had turned round on hearing Greg’s voice and decided to head back to join him. She seemed unperturbed by the fact that the travelator was moving against her and continued to walk determinedly towards him. Sherlock, not being aware of what was happening, was moving further away from her. Once he realised, he decided that there was no point fighting to get back and continued to the end.

He got off and looked back at Greg, who shrugged his shoulders. Lucy was obviously not in any distress; had she been they, their fellow passengers, and all the airport staff would have been aware of it, so he decided to wait at his end to see what she was going to do.

Greg had abandoned the idea of getting the coffee and instead watched his daughter purposefully walking the wrong way on the travelator. After a while she said “tired now” and sat down, allowing herself to be carried to the other end where Sherlock collected her.

Greg followed, and once he had rejoined the rest of the family, he showed Sherlock the photo of their very determined daughter.

*****

No-one was ever very sure why Sherlock’s cousin, Richard, asked Sherlock to be his best man. Henry, Richard’s brother, was appalled and refused to come to the wedding. The bride’s family were prepared to accept Sherlock’s presence, so long as he came by himself. When they learned that Sherlock’s husband and children would also be present, they too said they would not be attending. Richard and Anne were very happy, because this meant that they were able to have a small wedding with only those present who cared more for the happiness of the two getting married than their own prejudices.

Anne asked William if he would be her page boy. At first it appeared that he would refuse, but when Sherlock explained that it was a very important role he agreed. Lucy, who hated wearing frilly dresses, was equally happy not to be asked to be a bridesmaid.

Greg suspected that Sherlock anticipated a small wedding as being informal, so when Richard announced that they still needed top hat and tails, Greg was waiting for the objections. However, as soon as William asked if that included him and looked so hopeful, he knew that Sherlock wouldn’t want to do anything that would disappoint their son.

Greg made the mistake of crowing that Sherlock would have to spend time at the men’s outfitters, ensuring that his suit was just right. In return Sherlock pointed out that Greg ought to buy a new suit and that since Lucy would also need something to wear the two of them could go shopping together. Finding Lucy a dress proved relatively easy once they had eliminated anything with bows and ribbons. Finding Greg a new suit was somewhat harder; everything he liked she pronounced as “boring”, or “you’re not choosing something for work”, but in the end they found a pale grey suit they both agreed on, a new white shirt, and a tie that was practically the same colour as Lucy’s dress.

By the time they made it home Sherlock and William had also returned.

“What kept you?” Sherlock asked.

“It took ages to find Daddy a suit,” Lucy explained. “He’s really got no idea.”

***

The wedding day, despite dire prophecies from the relatives who refused to attend, went very well. William did exactly what was required of him, and the two teenage bridesmaids insisted on looking after him when Sherlock was involved in his duties as the best man. Sherlock’s speech was no more embarrassing than any given by a best man and a lot better than some. Everyone danced with everyone else and the bride and groom departed to best wishes in the knowledge that those attending had all thoroughly enjoyed the day.

And their friend, who was taking the photographs, had taken many excellent pictures, including those of a very proud best man and page boy.

*****

“Can I join Brownies?” Lucy asked out of the blue one evening when they were eating tea.

“Why do you want to do that?” Greg asked.

“Marie came to school in her uniform today and told us about Brownies. She said they make fun things, and get badges, and eat chocolate.”

Greg and Sherlock exchanged glances.

“Does anyone else in your class go?” Sherlock asked.

“No, they all say it’s silly; Marie’s in the class above. Can I go?”

“Well,” Greg said. “I’m picking you up from school tomorrow. Shall I speak to Marie’s mum?”

“Yes, please.”

***

The following evening, once the children had gone to bed, Greg told Sherlock what he had found out.

“It turns out that Brownies meet in the church hall on Thursday evenings. Marie’s mum gave me Brown Owl’s number, so I phoned her up and I’ve agreed that Lucy can go tomorrow and try it out for a few weeks.”

“You sound dubious.”

“Lucy’s a rebel. It’s a uniformed organisation; it’s bound to have lots of rules. I’m not sure she’ll fit in.”

“Lucy’s only a rebel when she doesn’t see the point of the rules.”

Greg snorted at Sherlock’s statement. “I’ve no idea where she gets that from.”

Sherlock looked pained at the comment. “If she doesn’t enjoy it, she will let us know and she won’t need to go again.”

***

Despite Greg’s initial doubts, Lucy enjoyed Brownies. One night, when it was Sherlock’s turn to collect her, she came running out with a list of activities that were planned for the following term, and a demand to buy her some uniform at once, because she was going to be enrolled. Greg had to phone Brown Owl up again to establish exactly what was needed immediately (the uniform) and what was less urgent (payment for the planned trips).

Greg, Sherlock, and William all went along to see Lucy make her Brownie promise. Greg had taken the camera, but in the end it was Sherlock who took the pictures of their daughter, Greg unaccountably finding his vision slightly blurred as he watched.

*****

Greg had probably been tempting fate when he assumed that Lucy would have a quiet day with Molly in the morgue providing there wasn’t a zombie apocalypse. Admittedly, ‘take your daughters to work day’ had begun well, Molly had explained some of the things she did and Lucy had asked various questions.

At the start of the afternoon, Lucy had understood that she had to stay out of the way when two bodies were brought down for urgent examination. Nevertheless, she peered through the glass at one of the corpses, covered by a sheet. As the daughter of Sherlock Holmes and DI Lestrade, the idea of a dead body was unlikely to upset her.

Suddenly, she called out to Molly, “This one’s breathing.”

Molly, who was about the go to examine the other body, paused. Lucy wasn’t a girl given to fancies, nor would she make a joke about something that she was aware was serious. Accordingly, she decided to go and check on her young charge and reassure her if necessary. Molly glanced back through the window at the body she was planning on examining and gave an involuntary shriek.

“Are you okay?” Lucy shouted.

“Yes, well, no. My body has disappeared.”

“That’s impossible.” Lucy ran over to where Molly was standing.

“Whatever’s happened we’re not stopping here to find out about it.” Molly grabbed Lucy’s hand and pulled her towards the stairs.

“It’s not zombies,” Lucy said, “because they don’t exist.”

“No, of course they don’t. However, whoever they are, I don’t think there’s an entirely innocent explanation. And I promised your dad I would take care of you, which is why we are leaving.”

They had run up the first flight of stairs when they heard heavy footsteps and the sound of shouting coming down towards them. Molly and Lucy looked at each other and charged into the Ladies, and hid in one of the cubicles. Lucy balanced on the toilet lid, whilst Molly stood with her back against the door. They were both relieved that they weren’t followed.

Lucy took her phone out of her pocket.

“What are you doing?” Molly asked quietly.

“I’m phoning my ultra-important contact number. It’s Uncle Mycroft’s assistant. It’s only for real emergencies, like when Papa gets knocked unconscious and there’s no-one else to help.”

Lucy stopped speaking to Molly and explained to the person who had answered her phone call what had happened. Once she had hung up, she turned back to Molly.

“We’re to stay here and someone will come and find us soon. Anthea says it might get rather noisy for a little while, so not to worry. And that it’ll be someone we know we can trust who comes for us.”

Shortly afterwards there was the sound of gunfire, and then they heard the outside door opening and someone ran in. There was a gunshot and a thud as whoever had been shot fell to the floor. Molly swallowed visibly and tried to control her breathing.

Then a military sounding voice said, “It’s okay, ma’am. It’s safe in here.”

Anthea said, “Thank you, captain. Lucy, Molly, it’s safe to come out now.”

The two of them left the cubicle and walked round the man who was lying on the floor holding his leg.

Lucy looked down at him. “Should we try to stop the bleeding?” she asked.

The captain looked at Anthea, who nodded.

“Just let me put some handcuffs on him, miss, and then you can if you want.”

So when Mycroft Holmes arrived to assess the situation, he found his niece kneeling on the floor applying a makeshift bandage to the leg of one of the men his department had been after for months.

Mycroft send a text message to Sherlock and Greg requesting that they come and collect their daughter. Lucy used the photo he attached to the message for her school report on her day.

*****

Sherlock looked very pleased with himself as he inserted the five photos into the small frames round the clock.

Greg looked at him, “There’s one space left. Do you have any suggestions as to which one we should use?”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final photograph is selected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With thanks to Azriona for suggesting the sort of photograph Sherlock and Greg should be looking for.
> 
> And to SCFrankles for beta and suggesting the second photo.

_“I think it should be one of the two of them together; all the others are individual photos,” Sherlock said._

_“That might be because they very rarely both stand still at once,” Greg replied. “Let’s see what we’ve got which could be suitable.”_

_They laid out the pictures with both Lucy and William in, discarding any where one or the other was pulling a face or giving their sibling bunny ears. This reduced the number significantly._

_“How about this one?” Greg said._

*****

Boxing Day and the cold Greg had been fighting valiantly for days had succeeded with a rearguard action. He had struggled out of bed to consider the chaos left from the previous day but had put up only token resistance when Sherlock had insisted he go back to bed. Sherlock, too, would have preferred a quiet day, but he knew it would be impossible with two active children in the flat.

He looked out of the window, wondering if a brisk walk in the park would be possible, but it was raining steadily and since he suspected Lucy was about to go down with the same cold, he thought it wiser to stay indoors.

“Can we watch one of the new DVDs?” the children chorused.

“You know we said the television was staying off until half past four and that includes DVDs,” Sherlock answered.

“But we have DVDs earlier in the day if we’re not well,” William argued.

“Dad’s the one who is ill,” Sherlock said.

“We could watch one for him,” Lucy suggested.

“No!” Sherlock’s voice was a little louder than he had intended. He didn’t want to disturb Greg, who would then come out to see what the problem was. “If we clear the dining table you can get out some of your new presents.”

Pleased with himself he began to walk towards the kitchen to make a strong cup of coffee. At the last second he turned round just in time to see the children either side of the table about to lift the tablecloth engulfing everything together.

“That is not what I meant.”

Two innocent faces looked back at him.

“Okay, I’ll make a deal with you.” Greg would be proud with the way he was dealing with this. Or possibly say that for a genius he had surprisingly little understanding of the way a child’s mind worked. “You tidy the table properly and clear your own things from the floor and we can look together at what you need to do with your new presents.”

“Uncle Mycroft’s presents?”

“Yes,” Sherlock sighed. “Uncle Mycroft’s presents.” Of course it would be Mycroft’s gifts. Mycroft gave sensible, educational gifts. The sort of gift that, as Greg said, any normal child would politely say ‘thank you’ for and then put to the back of the cupboard. Their children weren’t normal; they were excited by Mycroft’s gifts. Most parents hated the uncle who bought the loud musical instrument; Sherlock and Greg had rapidly learnt to be wary of the presents this uncle gave, since they had a tendency to spread themselves far and wide.

Sherlock went to make an extra strong cup of coffee. When he came back into the living room the children were sitting at the dining table, both clutching large boxes and looking very pleased with themselves. At which point Sherlock realised his first mistake. Mycroft’s presents were best tackled by one child and one parent. He was going to have to deal with two presents at once. Damage limitation was essential.

“Okay,” he said. “You need to take it in turns to show me what you have and what we need to do before we get started.” Maybe, if they took their time with the explanations, they could have lunch before it got too complicated.

William said, “Mine’s a map of the night sky. We need to put all the constellations on the special panels and then the panels are stuck to the ceiling of my bedroom. There’s lots of charts to follow and all sorts of different stars, depending on their magnitude.”

There were indeed a great number of stars, together with measuring equipment to ensure the constellations were accurate.

Sherlock started to ask William how he planned to begin, but was interrupted by Lucy, who said, “My turn?”

He was going to say ‘no’, but then he realised she wasn’t asking him, rather her brother, who nodded. It would seem the first delaying tactic had failed.

Lucy put her box on the table. “I’ve got a herb garden. It’s to go on the kitchen windowsill. The pots need painting and then I can sow the seeds.”

“Can we start now?”

Sherlock wondered if they’d been practising saying things together. “Yes, but don’t take everything out of the boxes at once.”

The expressions he was faced with said ‘as if we’d ever think of doing such a thing’. Nevertheless they both selected only part of the contents of their boxes to work on. William had placed one panel on the table and was diligently measuring the location of the stars to construct the Plough. Lucy had chosen the pot labelled Oregano and begun to carefully paint it. Happy the children were gainfully employed, Sherlock opened his laptop and began following a trail of dodgy websites.

He was grateful the children were quietly involved with their presents. This was a mistake. Had he thought about it, they were too quiet. After a while he realised they were giggling. He looked up to see their heads close to each other as they conspired together. They looked so happy he couldn’t resist taking a picture, before crossing the room to inspect what they were doing.

He could explain to Greg later why they had a diagram of the Plough painted on their dining table.

*****

_“Do you remember all the trouble you had fixing the panels to Will’s ceiling?” Sherlock asked._

_“It would have been a whole lot easier if you’d helped,” Greg replied. “But they’re still there and looking good. And our windowsill herb garden continues to flourish.”_

_“More thanks to you and Mrs Hudson than Lucy, though.”_

_“That’s the way with children. And we still have the Plough on the dining room table. So, what do you think about that photo then?”_

_Sherlock considered and then said, “I’ve always been very fond of this one.” He showed another picture to Greg._

*****

“We should have a picture of Daddy and Papa,” Lucy said.

“But they always take the photos,” William pointed out.

“I think the two of you could take a picture of us,” Sherlock said. “But it’s not quite as easy as it looks.”

Sherlock handed over his phone to the children. Greg looked concerned, not sure whether the phone would survive being handled by two small children. Not that he knew why it bothered him; this one was as Sherlock proof as any they had found, so it probably ought to be able to cope with children too.

Sherlock and Greg sat side by side on the sofa while the two children solemnly took their picture and then handed it over.

Greg looked at it, equally solemnly, and said, “It would be quite nice if it included our heads. Why don’t you have another go?” He deleted the headless picture and passed the phone back again.

“Maybe it would help if we sat on the floor,” Sherlock said.

They repeated the process. The children both peered through the viewfinder; ensured they didn’t have any fingers or thumbs over the opening, peered again and then William pressed the button. Proudly they handed the phone over.

“You may have got slightly too close this time,” Sherlock said as he showed Greg the picture. It highlighted Sherlock’s right ear and Greg’s left one and in between the two was a rather battered teddy which had fallen off the back of the sofa.

He reset the phone, adjusted the zoom and gave it back. Lucy held it carefully, while William pressed the button. There was a flash and William said, “Oops, wrong button.”

Lucy giggled. “That’s a selfie,” she said.

“Maybe Daddy and I should take a selfie, too,” Sherlock said. “It may be the only way we ensure we have a picture which includes the whole of our heads.”

It still took three more attempts before there was a picture they all agreed looked reasonable, since the first time Greg got a fit of the giggles and in the second Sherlock pulled a face, making everyone laugh. Finally they achieved something suitable. Greg sent the two acceptable selfies to John, with a note on the second saying ‘something for your rogues’ gallery!’

Sherlock kept the picture of the two children as the wallpaper on his phone, but also printed out a copy, so that when the phone met its inevitable demise (three weeks later when it sank without trace in the Thames) they still had a record of it.

*****

_“It’s a bit blurry round the edges,” Greg said._

_“I believe the term is artistic licence,” Sherlock replied._

_Greg laughed. “I’m not convinced that’s how your brother would describe it.”_

_They continued to move the pictures around until Sherlock said, “This is the one.”_

_At the same moment Greg pointed and said, “That would be perfect.”_

*****

It was a beautifully sunny day, near the end of the school summer holidays, and they were on their traditional end of holiday trip to the zoo. Even Mycroft had deigned to join them, because apparently the British government could manage by itself for one day. Greg privately thought it too was out somewhere eating an ice cream and enjoying the last of the good weather.

They had strolled slowly along the main path enjoying the sunshine and a chance to be all together. Greg was still not walking as briskly as he would have liked, but it didn’t seem to make any difference to the children. They bounced in front and then charged back, talking at the same time and listing which animals they must see next.

They had visited a number of the enclosures when Sherlock realised Greg’s responses to the children’s excited chatter were growing shorter and more abrupt. He suggested they find somewhere they could sit down and have a coffee. This was greeted by “But we’ve hardly seen anything yet,” from Lucy and an almost tearful “We’ll not be able to see everything we planned,” from William. Even Sherlock’s suggestion they have an ice cream each wasn’t greeted with the usual enthusiasm.

He could see Greg about to say he would be happy to stay somewhere whilst Sherlock went on with the children, when Mycroft said, “I shall be very disappointed if I don’t get to see as many animals as possible, so why don’t I carry on with you two, while Daddy and Papa have their coffee and we can meet them in the café for lunch.”

Sherlock raised his eyebrows slightly, but Mycroft nodded and the three of them set off along the path together. About half an hour later Sherlock received a text from Mycroft saying, “I shall need a very large black coffee at lunch time.” The next one said, “I now know more about anteaters and aardvarks than I ever thought I would want to know.”

Sherlock grinned at Greg. “It would seem my brother is having a good time.”

After lunch Sherlock wondered whether Mycroft would suddenly discover his presence was required in Whitehall after all, but he indicated he was happy to continue. Although it was noticeable he let the children’s fathers deal with the majority of their questions.

By mid-afternoon they all agreed they had seen as much as possible and it was time to go home.

Greg said, “I think it would be nice to buy Uncle Mycroft a present to say thank you for going round the zoo with you.”

“Could we adopt an animal for him?” Lucy asked.

“I think that’s a lovely idea,” Greg replied. “What sort of animal do you suggest?”

“There’s the pygmy hippos,” Sherlock muttered.

“Don’t be silly, Papa,” William said. “Uncle Mycroft’s favourite animal is the giraffe.”

“How did you know that?” Mycroft said, sounding genuinely surprised.

“I deduced it from my observations,” William replied.

“Mycroft, would you like us to adopt a giraffe for you?” Greg asked.

“I would be delighted,” Mycroft answered.

“Hooray!” Lucy said. “We have to walk past the giraffes on the way out. Can we take a picture of Uncle Mycroft with his giraffe as we go?”

“Excellent idea, Lucy,” Sherlock said. “There’s a bench by the giraffe enclosure, so if you and William stand on the bench, we can take a photo of the three of you in front of the giraffe.”


End file.
